


No one is perfect

by Geradsredskittle666



Category: Numb3rs (TV)
Genre: ADHD!Charlie, ADHD!Larry, Actually adhd author, Autisic!Larry, Autistic Original Character, Canon Autistic Character, Neurodivergent!Charlie, Neurodivergent!Larry, Original Character-centric, Panic Attacks, Rejection Sensitivity Disorder, Sensory Overload, Sexy trash like Klaus Hargreves, The Author Regrets Nothing, actually autistic author, autistic!Charlie, feelings of failure, overwhelm, partly non-verbal character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26834395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geradsredskittle666/pseuds/Geradsredskittle666
Summary: Based on my head cannon that Charlie's office is basically a refuge for upset students/ students with mental health issues.  Basically its shameless main character comforting OC who is basically the author fic. A student on campus is stressing out about failing (aka, the student experience) and has a panic attack. Charlie rescues them. Comforting ensures with good advice given.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	No one is perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Numb3rs and its trademarks and other properties are not my property. I do not make and do not intend to profit from this work in any way. This work is a fan creation using these characters in a creative work intended as entertainment only.   
> I do not give permission for anyone to take this work and post it elsewhere, unless explicitly given permission from me. If linked, shared or given permission to repost in any amount of words, credit must be correctly given to me as the author of this work and the rightful owners of Numb3rs as the owners of source material.

START

The student played around idly with his ipad. Though it wasn’t like he was doing anything important or was particularly focused. It was more like they were trying to look productive while really using it as a distraction from the heavy storm in their mind. ‘Though what did it even matter? It’s not like I’ll last the term anyway!’ He thought with frustration. 

He stared dispassionately at the screen, not really concealing their anger on purpose, they were just too 

exhausted to care. Just where had it all gone wrong? How had years of dreaming of this, years of fervently reading any book on the subject, years of preparing for the moment of success come to this? A GPA that had taken a leap off a tall building and didn’t seem interested in coming back to life and more hard work than any other student seemed to exercise to get the work done, for half the pay off. He had been gifted when he was younger. They had been quick studies and eager learners. Even when teachers failed to teach the, they had 

always found a way to teach themselves. They had always tried. 

And they had such dreams too! Dreams created one fateful day as a child. Dreams that had fuelled the eager pursuit of knowledge. Dreams that had been a shining sun when all was dark. Dreams that had given life when there had been doubt. 

He had believed that if you could dream it, you could do it. The Tag line for an entire generation of who were now bitter cynical adults that worked mind numbing 9 to 5 jobs that were entirely different from the 

idealistic vision from childhood barely able to feed themselves and barely having the time to feed their dreams. Yet he still believed. Perhaps foolishly, but if anyone could even the odds, determined dreamers could. This was an undisputed truth. 

But what use were the dreams now? Idealistic childhood desires. What could even the odds now? It had been a struggle to perform well, seemingly impossible challenges in the way. Even after all this...even after so much progress. It would take a miracle. Unfortunately, heaven seemed fresh out. 

He slid the ipad back into his bag and leaned against the trees strong trunk with closed eyes. If you can’t see it, it doesn’t exist...said the child. It was too bad child logic was fundamentally flawed. Sighing heavily, he pulled his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms firmly around himself. He pulled his hood over his head and rested his head on his knees. He was cocooned in warmth now. It did provide some comfort. 

Still the problem remained. 

A cold wind blew through the area and he shivered. It was getting cold. It was supposed to rain soon. 

Where was he again? Oh yeah, the problem. Truth was the he was feeling stuck...there was an essay that desperately needed to get done...that he was very capable of doing well in...but starting seemed tricky. How hard was it to just do the thing? Doubt seeped in...was he really capable? If he was, why did his grades look so bad? Worse, the consequences of a bad grade was probably more harm to his GPA...and status as an active student. It was not helpful to fail...or just get a big fat zero for no work at all. That should have been 

motivation enough but he still felt stuck...or maybe blocked. Its was frustrating. So very frustrating. 

All he knew was that his mind refused to do the work and his body seemed happier aimlessly watching 

Netflix. He could feel...tight. His chest certainly did anyway...and his muscles felt all wound up. Emotions and feelings were not his strong point. If the awkward descriptions above didn’t make that obvious already! 

What he did know was that he disliked “tight” very much. Especially when it came with a “blocked” mind and “wound up muscles”. It was something he recognised. Poor timing too. He did not have time for 

recovery. Nor time for the inevitable embarrassment. It was simply impractical as a student. There wasn’t 

breathing space for this kind of thing. 

He felt his chest tighten and his could hear his heart racing. Damn it! He tried to reign in the fear... it was something he had never gotten over. Too well conditioned perhaps. Not that there was any control any more. 

Liquid splashed onto his face and his breathing was shallow and rapid. He tried to calm his breathing with calm deep breaths, but it wasn’t working. It was starting to hurt. He could just pass out. That sounded 

tempting. 

He felt someone grab his arm and would have tried to pull way, if he had any control over his body. If someone was talking, it was lost on him. Even through his haze, he recognised the face. The campus whizz kid. The one all the girls had a crush on. The name escaped him, or perhaps it just hadn’t been worth 

remembering. What would have been the point? I mean, if he tried to learn all the names of the kids who were better at this stuff than he was, he wouldn’t have time to do any work at all. Better that they stuck to their place and didn’t taunt everyone else by merely existing in the same location. Even if that wasn’t their fault. 

The hand on his arm squeezed and he briefly returned to the present. Or as much as he could. The touch felt reassuring and warm. He was so scared in the moment that he accepted it. He focused on it. He didn’t know how much time had passed but he could breathe again. Even if it did hurt. Gods he was tired! 

“Come on. Let’s get you warmed up.” the “whizz kid” said smiling encouraging. He felt ashamed all of a sudden, this person seemed nice, maybe he shouldn’t have been so angry. It wasn’t really fair. If “Whizz Kid” had been born this intelligent, it wasn’t really their fault. 

He nodded, too exhausted to speak. He tried to get up but his legs had gone numb so he started to fall again. His kind rescuer caught him with arms that were deceptively strong. “I have you” he assured. 

He allowed himself to be half carried to a small lounge. The room was warm. He felt a blanket being placed on him. God, he could just fall asleep here. “Not yet. Your still wet” he heard. 

He had spoken out loud? What else had he said! 

He heard a soft amused laugh. 

“Here. It’s not a perfect fit but it’s dry.” he heard and a towel with track pants, a basic black shirt and a jumper was placed in his hands. “We will turn around. Okay?” 

Somehow he managed a nod. He managed to pull the wet sodden clothes off and change. “I’m done.” he manage to weakly speak. Though it seemed to take more effort than usual. 

More blankets were placed on him. “Your skin feels like ice! You must be freezing. And it’s Charlie, not Whizz kid. Not that I take offence. I’ve been called worse. That’s Larry. What’s your name?” Charlie asked. 

“Ray” he managed. Though it was obviously difficult. 

A look of realisation crossed Charlie’s face. He quickly started looking for something, looking through all the piles of paper that was stacked every where. Occasionally stack would fall and he would rush to catch it. It was quite funny really. Ray couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. Charlie looked up with a grin. “That’s better,” he exclaimed happily, before the pile had was going through crashed to the floor. Charlie sighed but seemed to have expected it. His companion, Larry, cracked a smile. Larry had been looking at him with 

curiosity. 

Ray couldn’t help his laughter. Though Larry had joined in but Charlie was smiling, so he didn’t seem upset about it. 

Finally Charlie emerged with a notepad and a pen. “Don’t mind the state of the office. Here, try this.” He offered the items. 

Wordlessly Ray accepted the notepad and pen in awe. How had he known? 

“Some people prefer not to speak, some of the time anyway. It to be expected really, you’re stressed, and after that panic attack its not surprising” he explained easily. 

Larry seemed impressed, though it was hard to tell by what exactly. 

Ray started writing. ‘How did you guess?’ 

Charlie looked at the message. “I am guessing that you weren’t just stressed from uni. That you were overwhelmed and overloaded, leading to the panic attack.” He explained. He scrunched his nose up. “Not fun.” He commented shortly. Larry didn’t seem surprised but was watching the exchange with interest. 

For a minute all the student did was stare...someone else could understand that? 

“Seriously though, are you okay?” Charlie asked, concerned. 

Ray paused, considering his actions. Could he just tell a stranger? Then again, who else did he have to tell? It wasn’t like his classmates or teachers would understand, nor his parents. ‘I will be fine in a few days. I just need to sleep and relax. I guess it feels like no one is seeing my efforts and only wants to blame me instead. If I can’t get the assignment done, I might fail. Then I would definitely get kicked out. Maybe they are right and I shouldn’t be here....but I can’t give up. Even if I should.’ 

Charlie gave him sympathetic smile. “I can understand that. I might be the freaky math kid, but I was never that great at reading or spelling. English class felt like that.”

‘No one is perfect.’ Ray wrote after a short time. 

Charlie nodded. “That’s very true.” He replied. “Still, you shouldn’t give up. Things will get tough, but 

giving up won’t make you happy. If you have a dream, don’t give it up. Take a break but don’t give up.” 

Tears sprung to his eyes and he couldn’t refuse them. Tears fell until they ran out. Charlie pulled him into a secure hug and steadied the student. Unsurprisingly the effort exhausted the young student and he fell asleep. He was placed on the small lounge and covered in blankets, left to slumber. 

The pair worked all night, hardly bothered by their guest. 


End file.
